


A Very Supernatural Christmas Story

by Dean_hugs_Sammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Christmas, Cold Weather, Gen, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dean_hugs_Sammy/pseuds/Dean_hugs_Sammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'This was not how Dean had wanted Christmas Eve to turn out - this was not how he'd wanted Sam to spend Christmas Eve. "Sammy, please." Dean begged. "Please wake up." But Sam didn't wake up.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is 13, Sam is 9.

As he looked up at the black sky, watching big white snowflakes slowly circle down above him, a tear started rolling down the thirteen-year-old's cheek. Dean sniffled, dried off his running nose with the back of his gloved hand before he hugged Sam even tighter to his chest.

"Sammy, please." Dean begged. "Please wake up."

But Sam didn't wake up. Dean had known he wouldn't the second his nine year old little brother had closed his eyes and not opened them back up when he'd spoken his name, and fear and panic started consuming the older brother's heart.

This was not how Dean had wanted Christmas Eve to turn out – this was not how he'd wanted _Sam_ to spend Christmas Eve. Dean had wanted this year to be special to make up for the Christmas they'd had the year before where Sam had found out what their dad _really_ did for a living, that the world was full of supernatural beings and how their mom had died. Sam had been overwhelmed and scared and – to top it all – their father hadn't even been around that particular Christmas. Dean could feel the golden pendant, which Sam had given him the previous Christmas, tucked away underneath his jacket and he let out a sob as he realized that his little brother might never witness another Christmas morning.

"Sammy.. Please.." Dean cried and pressed his cheek against Sam's much colder one – the floppy brown hair sticking out from Sam's beanie and tickling his skin.

How had everything gone so entirely wrong?

**_ SPN _**

The day had started out so differently. Dean had been woken up when a very excited little brother had jumped onto his bed and had happily announced what day it was.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam exclaimed and grinned when Dean peeked out from his covers with a grumpy look and sleep-tousled hair.

"What, Sam?" Dean asked, not at all ready to leave the warmth the covers provided him with.

"It's today!" Sam said and shot Dean a dimpled smile. "We're going to Bobby's place today!"

"And you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me something I already know?" Dean groaned and buried his face underneath the covers.

"It's 9.38, Dean." Sam said, removing the covers from his older brother's face before Dean could protest. "And Dad said we were leaving before noon, remember?"

"Is he back yet?" Dean asked with a yawn and carefully stuck his toe out of the warm covers to check the room temperature.

"Not yet." Sam said while Dean retreated his toe. "I made breakfast."

" _You_ made breakfast?" Dean asked incredulously and noticed the spot of flour on Sam's cheek. "Let me guess; you made pancakes?"

Sam nodded with excitement but Dean shook his head.

"You know Dad's gonna kill you if he finds out you used the stove, right?" Dean said and Sam's face dropped.

"I'm never allowed to do anything." Sam sighed and then bit his lower lip with nervousness. "You gonna tell him?"

"Nah." Dean said. "Not if I get to have the good bed at Bobby's."

"But I made those pancakes for _you_ , Dean." Sam said with a pout and Dean sighed in defeat before getting out of bed. The little bastard always knew how to win Dean over.

"Fine - you're annoying as hell, but fine." Dean said and lightly slapped Sam's head.

"Cut it out." Sam whined and swatted Dean's hand away before he left the room.

"You packed your things yet?" Dean called while getting dressed.

"All packed!" Sam called back.

"You cleaned up after yourself in the kitchen?" Dean called.

"Yes!" Sam's voice shouted.

"Did you shower?" Dean shouted while tying his shoelaces, then stopped as Sam didn't answer. "Sam?"

"I showered yesterday." Came the hesitant reply and Dean sighed.

He finished tying up his shoelaces and then walked to the kitchen where Sam was already sitting by the table, waiting for Dean to join him.

"Tell you what…" Dean said as he sat down by the table as well. "We'll eat breakfast together and afterwards you're gonna shower while I get my stuff packed. Deal?"

Sam thought about the suggestion for a few moments before he answered.

"I get the good bed at Bobby's then?" He asked.

"You save yourself an ass-kicking." Dean replied and Sam sighed.

Forty-five minutes, a pile of burned pancakes and a shower later, both boys were packed and ready to go. Their father showed up a little while later and soon all three Winchesters were on the road – driving towards Sioux Falls where the brothers were gonna spend Christmas with Bobby while their dad had a hunt in the area to take care of.

"The evil beings out there never rest." John Winchester had told Dean earlier in the week when his oldest son had asked him why they couldn't spend Christmas together. "Not even when it's Christmas, Dean."

Truth to be told, Sam had been the one to ask the question in the first place, and Dean had eventually built up enough courage to ask his dad about it. Dean never questioned anything their father did or said, but sometimes he made exceptions – for Sam's sake. Speaking of the younger brother, Sam was currently seated on the backseat of the Impala with a book in his hands while John was driving them towards the old salvage yard in Sioux Falls and Dean was riding shotgun. Despite the fact that the heaters were turned on and blowing warm air into the car, the Winchester brothers were both wearing warm jackets and beanies since the cold weather outside was putting up a good fight against the warmth inside the car.

Sam's forehead was pinched in concentration as he was studying the old folklore book his father had demanded him to read. Ever since Sam had discovered the truth about what his father did, John had been very resolute when it came to letting Sam in on the family business. Dean glanced at Sam from his position on the front seat of the car and wished that their father would give the nine-year-old some slack – especially since it was Christmas.

"If the weather doesn't get too bad, we'll be at Bobby's in the middle of the afternoon." John said and eyed the looming clouds in the horizon.

"You think more snow is coming?" Dean asked and John nodded.

"You can count on it, Ace." John said. "It's a good thing Bobby has a fireplace."

"He'll probably make us shovel the driveway." Dean snorted and picked out some music while his father chuckled.

"Just don't forget that Bobby's supposed to help you with your Latin." John reminded Dean. "It's important."

"Yes sir." Dean said, well-knowing that Bobby Singer had a whole different Christmas planned for the Winchester brothers than the one their father had in mind. John Winchester wanted his boys to enjoy Christmas but also study and practice the skills that could end up meaning the difference between life and death in a dangerous situation. Bobby just wanted the kids to be kids as long as possible – and if that included a home-cooked Christmas dinner, a tree, presents and no studying.. well, what John Winchester didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"Looks like your brother fell asleep." John remarked, tearing Dean out of his thoughts, and the older brother looked over the front seat to see Sam soundly asleep – book deserted in his lap.

"Yeah, how about that." Dean said and smiled wryly as he turned back around. He'd known Sam would nod off the moment he'd picked out a cassette tape with soft rock music – it worked like a charm every single time. Dean wasn't sure if his father had known it as well but if he did, he didn't comment on it - nor did he choose to wake up his youngest. And for that, Dean was grateful.

The Winchesters had been on the road for three hours and had just passed the border of South Dakota when the first few snowflakes hit the windshield of the Impala. Soon it was almost impossible to see the road ahead – even with the wipers working on their highest level. Bobby had called and advised John to drive safely (" _You ain't gonna arrive any sooner if ya get yourself killed, Johnny_ ") and the oldest Winchester had taken the advise for his boys' sake.

"How long before we get there?" Dean wanted to know after a while of driving in the white jumble.

"About an hour tops." John promised. "Bobby said that… Holy shit!"

A figure suddenly became visible through the blurry white on the road in front of them and John immediately stepped on the brakes with great force. The car skidded and swirled on the icy asphalt – missing the figure only by a few inches - before coming to a halt in a snow-covered ditch in front of a row of trees.

The oldest Winchester's ears were ringing as he slowly composed himself after the sudden crash and pushed himself back from the steering wheel that his head had collided with.

"Son of a.." John cursed and wiped away some blood from his forehead before he remembered that he wasn't alone in the car. "Dean? You alright?"

"I'm fine, dad." Dean groaned. "Hurt my shoulder a bit but nothing bad."

"Sam, you okay?" John asked, turning around as much as he could to get a view of his youngest.

"What's going on?" Sam asked from behind the front seat and both John and Dean let out a sigh of relief.

"Sammy, you okay? You hurt anywhere?" Dean asked and swallowed hard as Sam didn't answer right away. "Sam?"

"I think I hurt my head." Sam eventually answered.

"Just stay put." John said. "Don't move around too much, okay?"

"Okay." Sam answered.

John's attention was diverted as he caught a glimpse of something in the side-view mirror and his brow furrowed.

"Dean, I want you to stay here and look out for your brother." John said, opened up the glove department and rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out a container of salt and handing it over to his oldest. "There's a shotgun under the seat."

"Why? Where're you going?" Dean asked.

"There isn't time for questions, Dean. It's the thing I'm hunting - a vengeful spirit - and I'm going after it. You stay here and watch out for Sammy. Keep the doors locked and use the salt, you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Dean answered and John nodded, picked up a shotgun and then pried the door open with only a little trouble before getting outside.

Cold air streamed into the car for a few seconds before their father shut the door closed and Dean then immediately reached for the shotgun underneath the seat to be prepared in case he needed it.

"Dean." Sam whispered from the backseat – his voice barely audible but Dean clearly heard the fear in it.

"It's okay, Sammy. We're gonna be fine." Dean whispered back. "Just be quiet."

The car was silent for a few moments and Dean concentrated on the noises outside – his hands tightening around the shotgun as he listened for anything out of the ordinary.

"Dean." Sam whispered again. "Can I stay in front with you? I'm.. I'm scared."

"Alright but come quietly." Dean whispered, put down the shotgun for a moment and turned around to help his little brother climb over the back of the seat.

Dean had just closed his hands around Sam's wrists when the rear window was smashed open – making little pieces of glass rain down over the brothers and making cold wind blow inside. A very pale young woman appeared out of nowhere and stared back at Dean for a few seconds and, before the older brother could even begin to react, she smiled evilly and grabbed hold of Sam's right boot.

"Dean!" Sam screamed with eyes wide of horror.

"Sam!" Dean shouted – his eyes equally wide and full of horror as Sam was suddenly yanked from his grip and disappeared through the broken rear window.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam!" Dean shouted - his heart beating rapidly inside his chest as he fumbled with the passenger door with a shaky hand. "Come on. Come on."

Since the pile of snow in the ditch was covering the right side of the Impala the most, the door didn't budge at all so Dean quickly slid over to the driver side of the car with the shotgun in hand and pried the door open before rushing outside. The thirteen-year-old was immediately hit by a massive snow-filled wind that cut right through his clothes and had him shivering within seconds.

"Sammy!" Dean called and shielded his face from the piercing snowstorm by using the sleeve of his jacket.

The wind stole away his shouts but Dean continued to call for his little brother as he frantically moved through the snow with troubled steps. Dean's fingers were already starting to get numb when he remembered that he carried his gloves inside his jacket pockets, so he quickly reached into his pockets, took out the gloves and put them on before continuing his task of finding Sam. The older brother's heart then sank as he realized that he was also carrying Sam's gloves in his pockets since Dean knew that Sam always forgot to bring them with him but also always needed them in weather like this.

"Sam!" Dean shouted again, his throat clogging with fear of what could have happened to his baby brother when he spotted a trail on the snow-covered ground. It was almost covered up already but it was definitely there – a trail that revealed that someone had been dragged into the dark forest ahead of him.

" _Not just someone."_ Dean thought with a mix of anger and worry. " _Sam._ "

As fast as he could with the amount of snow that covered the landscape, Dean followed the trail in a desperate search for his brother but with the precision and patience as only the son of a hunter could contain. The trail continued around the edge of a frozen lake and Dean had just passed by some overturned trees when his ears picked up on a noise nearby that without a doubt wasn't the howling of the wind. The closer he got to the noise, the clearer it became to him what the noise was and Dean's heart started hammering away inside his chest. It was Sam - and it was Sam _crying_.

"Sam." Dean breathed out in relief as he spotted the younger brother sitting by the foot of a large tree next to the frozen lake. Dean scouted the area with wariness as he hurried towards Sam and he started running faster when Sam looked up and cried for him - the older brother falling to his knees in front of his brother when he finally reached him.

"Sam." Dean repeated and pulled Sam into a hug, squeezing his eyes shut and holding on just a little bit tighter as he felt the wetness on the younger boy's cheeks.

"D-Dean." Sam sniffled and the older brother pulled back to take a good look at the kid.

Despite the snowstorm and the darkness that was getting more and more profound by every minute, Dean was still able to see Sam's face and his forehead furrowed as he took in the blue tint on Sam's lips. He didn't miss the way Sam was violently shaking either.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" Dean asked and tried to swallow his panic as Sam nodded. "Where?"

"M-my f-foot." Sam stuttered, pointed at the foot that the ghost had dragged him in and then whimpered as Dean took a hold of it.

"Easy." Dean soothed and carefully twisted Sam's foot a bit from side to side and up and down, wincing in sympathy with every pain-filled noise that escaped his brother's lips but relieved to know that Sam's foot at least wasn't broken. "Where is she, Sam? The ghost?"

"I d-don't know." Sam all but whispered and looked past Dean with a frightened look. "Just dragged me here and disappeared. Dean, what does she want?"

"It's hard to say, Sammy. But we better get away from here before she returns." Dean said and quickly pulled Sam's gloves over the younger boy's frozen fingers before he helped him up from the snowy ground. "Can you walk?"

Sam took a couple of trying steps, wincing and whimpering while doing so, but nodded bravely nonetheless.

"Slow steps." Dean said and held on to his brother as they headed back towards the Impala.

They hadn't taken more than a few steps, however, when the ghost suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed and the older brother let go of him long enough to push Sam behind him and fire a round of rock salt at the ghost that unfortunately disappeared before the shells could hit her.

"Sam, run!" Dean shouted as the ghost once again showed up but Sam hesitated behind him. "Run!"

Dean fired the shotgun again while Sam stumbled through the snow, falling to his knees a couple of times with a pain-filled sound before continuing to do as his big brother had told him to do. When the ghost suddenly reappeared in the middle of Sam's escape-route, the youngest Winchester brother let out a gasp in surprise and stared wide-eyed at the smirking ghost in front of him.

"You can run but you can't hide." The ghost sing-sang.

"Sam, drop!" Dean suddenly shouted nearby and Sam threw himself down in the snow and then covered his head as bits of rock salt rained down on him.

The younger brother felt strong arms pulling him back on his feet and he bit his lower lip hard as pain once again shot through his hurt foot.

"Sam, come on. Come on." Dean said before grabbing Sam's gloved hand and dragging him with him out on the frozen lake - hoping that they would get back to the Impala sooner by using the shortcut.

The snowstorm was still raging intensely which made it difficult for the brothers to move ahead and see anything at all, and both boys were shivering badly.

"J-just a little longer, Sammy." Dean encouraged through clattering teeth, wincing in sympathy with every painful step his little brother took. "The Impala isn't far away and Dad will be waiting for us."

At least that was what Dean hoped he would. Truth to be told; he didn't know whether their father would be waiting for them or not. Dean could only hope that John Winchester had found out a way to get rid of the ghost or that he at least had noticed that his boys were missing by now but no matter what, Dean would say what his brother needed to hear.

The Winchester brothers reached the middle of the frozen lake and Dean noticed with sudden worry how the ice seemed thinner at this part of the lake. Sam seemed to notice it too and had just opened his mouth to say something to his older brother, when the air around them suddenly got colder than it already was. The slight change in the temperature was enough warning for Dean to raise the shotgun which made him prepared when the ghost turned up in front of them once more. The ghost made a move forwards but Dean was quicker and fired a round of rock salt that pierced through the ghost and forced her to disappear.

"Take that, you son of a bitch!" Dean triumphed but the glee was short as the rock salt bullets that had gone right through the ghost also happened to have hit the ice and cracked the surface.

"Dean, the ice.." Sam said and held on to the sleeve of Dean's jacket.

"I see it." Dean said, put a hand on Sam's chest and backed them both up a little with careful steps. "We need to get closer to the edge of the lake where the ice is thicker."

The boys didn't get a chance to do so however, before the ghost reappeared and knocked the shotgun out of Dean's hands before he had the time to even raise the weapon. The shotgun swirled across the ice and Sam made a run for it but before he could reach it, the ice made a cracking sound and suddenly disappeared underneath the younger brother's feet.

"No!" Dean shouted, wide-eyed and horrified, as Sam's lower body went through the ice – the nine-year-old's head smacking into the ice in the process with a sickening thud.

At the same time as the ghost all of a sudden went up in flames, Dean threw himself down on his stomach and managed to grab Sam's hand before the younger boy could be pulled further down in the ice-cold water. Sam's eyes were closed and his forehead bloody as Dean used all of his strength to pull Sam back up on the surface of the ice and into his big brother's waiting arms.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean called in panic and shook Sam's shoulders.

The older brother then let out a sigh of relief as Sam let out a soft groan and slowly blinked his eyes open.

"Geez kiddo, what are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?" Dean asked and wiped some blood off Sam's forehead with his sleeve.

"M-m-my h-h-head h-h-hurts." Sam stuttered out with clattering teeth – his entire body shuddering incontrollable.

"I know, Sam." Dean said in a soft voice and found the goose egg formed bump on Sam's forehead, before his brows furrowed as he felt another bump just at the beginning of Sam's hairline. The older brother then remembered that Sam had also hit his head when the Impala had crashed into the ditch and the realization spiked Dean's worry even more.

"Come on, we gotta get you back to the car." Dean said and helped Sam up from the ice.

Dean wasn't surprised when Sam swayed and his knees buckled, but the older brother hoisted the kid up against his side and carried the bigger part of Sam's weight as they started walking again. Dean was glad that only the lower half of Sam's body had gone through the ice but he also knew that Sam was still beyond cold and that he had to get his brother warmed up before Sam took a turn for the worse.

The snowstorm had luckily ceased off a bit which made it easier for the brothers to see where they were heading. They made it all the way across the lake and back on firm ground before Sam wasn't able to move his legs anymore or hold himself vertical at all. Dean luckily caught Sam around the midsection before he could go down and the older brother dragged Sam with him to some overturned trees that could provide them with just a little bit of lee from the wind. Dean sat down on the ground and pulled Sam back against him before wrapping his arms around the younger boy.

"You stay awake." Dean ordered as Sam's eyelids began to droop. "Dad will find us soon and then we're going to Bobby's place where there's always warm. Maybe he'll even have hot cocoa for us, huh Sammy?"

"A-a-and w-w-warm b-beds." Sam added which made Dean smile wryly.

"That too." Dean said. "And I'll even let you have the good one. Just stay awake, alright?"

Sam nodded although his eyelids kept drooping.

"You remember that Christmas book Bobby had that you loved so much?" Dean asked to keep Sam's attention. "What was it called? 'A Christmas Song'?"

"A C-Christmas C-C-Carol." Sam stammered out and Dean nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, that's it. Tell me about it, Sam." Dean said.

"Y-you a-a-already k-know i-it." Sam said.

"Tell me anyway." Dean said while rubbing Sam's chest in a desperate attempt to provide the kid with a little bit of warmth - especially since Sam had suddenly stopped shuddering of coldness and Dean knew that it wasn't a very good sign.

Sam started telling Dean about the cold-hearted creditor named Ebenezer Scrooge who was visited by three spirits that showed him the past, present and what had yet to come.

"The g-ghost of C-Christmas Present tells Scrooge t-that unless t-the future is changed, then Tiny Tim will die." Sam tells Dean. "I always l-liked Tiny Tim, Dean."

"Then what?" Dean asked, swallowing hard against the lump that had started to form in his throat as Tiny Tim all of a sudden reminded him a little too much of his good-hearted little brother who was struggling very hard to keep his eyes open by now.

"I.. I don't remember." Sam mumbled and Dean's concern spiked tremendously.

"Yes you do! Then the last spirit shows up – the one showing Scrooge the future." Dean encouraged but Sam remained silent. "Sammy? Sam!"

Dean shook his younger brother a bit but Sam didn't respond. His head just lolled against Dean's chest and his eyes stayed closed. The older brother let out a sound that most of all sounded like a whimper and bit his lower lip while tilting his head back. As he looked up at the black sky, watching big white snowflakes slowly circle down above him, a tear started rolling down the thirteen-year-old's cheek. Dean sniffled, dried off his running nose with the back of his gloved hand before he hugged Sam even tighter to his chest.

"Sammy, please." Dean begged. "Please wake up."

But Sam didn't wake up. Dean had known he wouldn't the second his nine year old little brother had closed his eyes and not opened them back up when he'd spoken his name, and fear and panic started consuming the older brother's heart.

This was not how Dean had wanted Christmas Eve to turn out – this was not how he'd wanted _Sam_ to spend Christmas Eve. Dean had wanted this year to be special to make up for the Christmas they'd had the year before where Sam had found out what their dad _really_ did for a living, that the world was full of supernatural beings and how their mom had died. Sam had been overwhelmed and scared and – to top it all – their father hadn't even been around that particular Christmas. Dean could feel the golden pendant, which Sam had given him the previous Christmas, tucked away underneath his jacket and he let out a sob as he realized that his little brother might never witness another Christmas morning.

"Sammy.. Please.." Dean cried and pressed his cheek against Sam's much colder one – the floppy brown hair sticking out from Sam's beanie and tickling his skin.

It wasn't fear of what his father might do or say to him if Sam didn't wake up again that scared Dean the most. It wasn't the guilt of not having been able to protect his brother the way he should have that filled Dean's heart either. It was the dread of no longer being woken up by a little brother with a dimpled smile, that was threatening to consume him; to no longer being able to hear Sam laugh, to see him smile and hear him go on and on about some stupid school assignment or random knowledge that Dean couldn't care less about, to no longer seeing the bitch-face or the redness of Sam's cheeks when he got embarrassed. It was the thought of losing his little brother, whose first word had been his big brother's name, that scared Dean more than anything and it was too much for his thirteen-year-old heart to bear.

" _Sam_! _Dean_!" A familiar voice all of a sudden pierced through the forest. " _Sam! Dean!_ "

"Over here!" Dean called back and shielded his eyes behind Sam's beanie-covered head as a beam of a flashlight hit his face a few moments later.

"John! I found them!" Bobby Singer shouted before he quickly closed the gap between him and the boys and let out a sigh of relief as Dean stared back at him. "What have you idjits been up to this time around?"

"Bobby, Sam is hurt." Dean said while he still hugged Sam tightly to his chest. "And he won't wake up."

Bobby's expression turned worried as he crouched down next to the boys and put two fingers against Sam's neck to check the younger boy's pulse, and it was then John Winchester suddenly came crashing through the trees. One look at the sight in front of him was all the oldest Winchester needed to understand the seriousness of the situation, and he pushed past Bobby and picked Sam up in one quick motion.

"Take Dean." John said to Bobby before he all but sprinted back in the direction he came from.

"Come on, Dean." Bobby said, extended a hand to the older Winchester brother before yanking him to his feet.

Bobby then pried off his jacket and wrapped it around Dean's shoulders before he started guiding the still sniffling kid out of the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Bobby and Dean made it back to the road where the Impala had crashed, the head of the Winchesters had already stripped his youngest of his wet clothes, cocooned him in a thick layer of blankets and turned the heaters up on full power in Bobby's old pickup truck. With the nine-year-old held tightly in his arms, John rolled the window down and barked at Bobby to hurry up.

"What do you think I've been doing until now? Getting my toenails painted?" Bobby grumbled before opening up the driver side of the truck and lifting Dean inside.

The salvage yard owner got behind the wheel of the pickup truck while John quickly draped a blanket around Dean who had settled between his dad and Bobby. The oldest brother didn't dare to look his father in the eyes but he did, however, glance at his limp little brother and then choked back a sob as Sam continued to look more dead than alive.

"I'll call someone to tow the Impala back to my place." Bobby said when he put the pickup truck in gear and stepped on the gas pedal, steering them back on the snowy road. "John, how is he?"

"Cold." John answered in a gruff voice. "So damn cold. Dean, what happened?"

"The boy did what he could - it was the ghost." Bobby answered before Dean could open his mouth. "And Sam fell through the ice."

When Bobby had led Dean through the forest, the boy had told the older hunter what had happened and why Sam had gotten hurt. Bobby had listened and had cursed a few times under his breath but had made one thing perfectly clear for the oldest Winchester brother;

" _It's not your fault, Dean_." Bobby had told him. " _I know you did what you could to protect your brother so don't you dare blame yourself_."

And Dean did try not to blame himself for what had happened to Sam, he really did, but it was so damn hard _not_ to when Sam was so pale and so disturbingly still. If Dean hadn't led Sam out on the ice then the younger brother wouldn't have fallen through it. Heck, if Dean had just used the salt as his father had told him to do and hadn't put down the shotgun, then maybe the ghost wouldn't have taken Sam in the first place.

"Hospital?" Bobby wanted to know and the question tore Dean out of his dark thoughts.

John Winchester hesitated with his answer, brushed Sam's bangs back and took in the bruises on his boy's forehead before checking Sam's pulse.

"John, hospital or not?" Bobby snarled.

"Just give me second!" John sneered back and Dean flinched between the two older hunters, suddenly feeling smaller than he'd done in a long time. "Where's your first-aid kit?"

"Underneath the seat." Bobby answered.

"Dean?" John said and Dean immediately dived down on the floorboard before reappearing with the first-aid kit. "Good. Now hand me some gauze pads."

Dean did as he was told, rummaged around in the first-aid kit with shaky hands and then handed over the items to his dad. John used the gauze pads to dab at the drying blood on Sam's forehead - then let out a deep sigh as a pained sound escaped Sam's lips.

"Sam?" Dean asked in a hopeful voice but Sam didn't show more signs of life than that.

"Johnny, for the love of God, does Sam need a hospital or not?" Bobby shouted with frustration.

"Shut up and let me think!" John growled back at the salvage yard owner.

While the two adults argued whether or not to drive by a hospital, Dean leaned closer to Sam and tried to share some of his warmth with the much colder younger brother.

"You're gonna be just fine, Sammy." Dean whispered - although he had no idea whether that statement was true or not. "I promise."

**_ SPN _**

In the end, after a lot of cursing and bickering back and forth, Bobby Singer and John Winchester could agree on one thing; Sam did indeed need help - but not necessarily at the hospital. So, after a very tense drive through the snowy landscape of South Dakota, the pickup truck finally arrived at _Singer Auto_ in Sioux Falls. A car was already parked in front of the house by the time they got there and as Bobby pulled up behind it, a man, Dean hadn't seen before, stepped out of it.

"That him?" John asked and Bobby nodded.

"Yep, Doc. Myers." Bobby confirmed before stepping out of the car.

John stepped outside too with Sam still bundled up in his arms and Dean followed closely behind, not wanting to be too far away from his hurt little brother – both for his own sake and for Sam's sake as well.

"Get him inside. Quick." The doctor ordered and John gave him a short nod before following the doctor inside Bobby's house with his youngest boy in a firm grip, while Bobby put a hand on Dean's back and led him inside as well.

"What's he gonna do?" Dean wanted to know and worriedly watched as Sam was put down on the couch and wrapped in more blankets.

"He's gonna fix your brother." Bobby promised and then tried to shoo Dean out of the room but the thirteen-year-old didn't go down without a fight – not when Sam was concerned.

"No Bobby, I wanna stay!" Dean protested. "It's Sam. I need to be here!"

The salvage yard owner sighed, scratched the hair underneath his cap before putting the hat back in place and studying Dean's face for a few seconds.

"Tell you what; I'll make ya a deal." Bobby then said. "You go upstairs, take a long warm shower and change into some different clothes. Then you can stay with Sam. Alright?"

Dean hesitated a little and bit his lower lip as he watched the doctor shine a light into Sam's eyes with a small flashlight.

"Alright?" Bobby repeated.

"Alright." Dean agreed, but glanced in his little brother's direction once more before giving in.

"And I mean a _long_ shower, boy!" Bobby emphasized as Dean left the room.

"Alright, alright." Dean muttered while walking up the stairs, hating that he couldn't be by Sam's side throughout it all. Dean couldn't wait until the day where he would be an adult himself; then no one would be able to keep him away from his little brother - and God help whoever would try!

One hot shower and some clean clothes later, Dean returned downstairs in a hurry – eager to find out how Sam was doing and whether or not the kid had woken up yet. The oldest brother appeared in Bobby's living room just in time to hear the doctor reel off Sam's condition.

".. is very lucky to be alive. Hypothermia, sprained ankle, severe concussion and some frostbite." The doctor said. "He needs bed rest, fluids and Tylenol, and he might suffer from the side effects of the concussion when he wakes up. Keep him warm."

"When will he wake up?" John asked while Bobby put a blanket around Dean's shoulders.

"He'll wake up when he's ready." The doctor said and packed his belongings before eyeing the salvage yard owner. "I've told you time and time again not to call me at this hour, Singer! Next time I might bring my shotgun along!"

With those words, the doctor left the house, and John raised an eyebrow at Bobby but the older hunter just shrugged his shoulders.

"How is he? Has he been awake yet?" Dean asked and closed the gap between him and his brother before sitting down on the edge of the couch. "Has he asked for me?"

"He's still out, Dean. Hasn't been awake." His dad answered. "So, what happened back there with the ghost? How did it get to your brother?"

"You really think this is the time to discuss that, Johnny?" Bobby asked with crossed arms and shot the oldest Winchester a look.

"Stay out of this, Bobby. I just want to know what happened." John said before looking at his oldest expectantly. "Well?"

"Sammy was scared." Dean said after a few moments of silence and mildly stroked a finger across the bandage on Sam's forehead. "I put down the shotgun to help him onto the front seat but the ghost smashed the rear window and took him."

"You put down the shotgun?" John asked.

"Johnny." Bobby interrupted but John ignored him.

"Dean, you know better than that." John continued. "And what about the salt? Sam could have been killed."

"I'm sorry, dad." Dean apologized and fidgeted with a corner of the blanket he carried on his shoulders.

"It's not your fault, kid." Bobby said and turned a hard look in John's direction. "And where were _you_ in all this, huh? You left the boys alone to go after the ghost?"

"I did what I had to do to protect them." John said.

"Well, nice job on that one." Bobby huffed.

John was about to shoot a not so polite comment in return, when the argument was interrupted by a weak voice saying "Dean".

"Sammy?" Dean said and turned his attention away from the two older hunters to focus on his little brother.

Sam's eyes were still closed but his face was scrunched up in obvious pain.

"Dean." Sam repeated with distress and let out a small sob.

"Sam, I'm right here." Dean said and carded a hand through Sam's floppy hair, feeling relieved when Sam finally opened his eyes. "Hey there, little brother."

The pain lines were still visible on Sam's forehead as he looked at his big brother with confusion and misery, then swallowed hard and blinked back unshed tears.

"Hurts." Sam said in a barely audible voice.

"Your head?" Dean asked and Sam nodded but then had to stop as the movement didn't do anything good for him.

"Here." John suddenly said and Dean turned to his father to accept some Tylenol and a glass of water for Sam that John handed over. John Winchester knew that Sam always wanted Dean to take care of him when he was hurt or sick.

"Hi son. How are you doing?" The oldest Winchester asked. "You holding up?"

Sam nodded shortly and opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when nausea washed over him.

"It's okay." His dad said, caressed Sam's cheek for a short moment and sent his youngest a smile before moving out of the way so Dean could give Sam the pain relievers.

"What happened, Dean?" Sam asked his brother and winced as Dean helped him into a sitting position.

"You don't remember?" Dean asked. "Open up."

Sam allowed Dean to feed him the Tylenol and swallowed it down with the glass of water, Dean was holding to his lips, before his brother eased him back down on the couch.

"I remember the ghost." Sam said and Dean nodded.

"You fell through the ice and hit your head." Dean said to fill out the pieces Sam couldn't remember.

"I did?" Sam asked.

"Yep, I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" Dean teased and cheered on the inside as the comment earned him a small smile from his little brother.

"I'm tired." Sam then said with eyelids that were already falling shut. "And I'm cold."

"I'll fix that. Just sleep, Sammy." Dean said, took off the blanket he was wearing and draped it over the younger brother while Sam's breath slowly evened out in sleep.

**_ SPN _**

The night between December the 24th and December the 25th was a tough one. The Winchester brothers were sharing Bobby's guestroom and while the snow kept falling down outside the old house in the salvage yard, Sam woke up several times during the night with pain he couldn't handle on his own. Even though Bobby and John kept checking up on the brothers, it was Dean Sam called for, Dean who held on to Sam as the younger brother threw up. It was Dean that comforted Sam when the kid cried from the pain of his concussed head, sprained ankle and the frostbite covering toes and fingers, and it was also Dean that made sure Sam was properly tucked in all the way through the night so the younger brother wouldn't get cold.

When morning came and Sam was finally sleeping peacefully, Dean was woken up when his father gently shook him awake.

"Dad?" Dean asked sleepily and rubbed at his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Ace." John whispered and sat down on the edge of the bed. "How's Sammy?"

"Sleeping.. now, at least." Dean said and glanced in Sam's direction with a yawn before sitting up. "He's gonna be okay, right?"

"He's gonna be just fine." His dad promised and sighed heavily. "You know, Dean.. I want to apologize to you for yesterday. What I said.. Bobby was right; it's not your fault that Sam got hurt."

"But I put down the shotgun and I didn't use the salt as you told me to do." Dean said.

"Well, that's why it's important that you do what I tell you to do." John said. "I don't want anything happening to either one of you boys, you understand?"

"Yes sir." Dean said.

"But.." His dad said and continued. "I shouldn't have left you and Sam alone in the car either. I thought I did the right thing to protect you, but it turns out that I might have endangered the two of you instead, and for that I'm sorry."

Dean looked at his father as if the man had grown two heads. It was very rare that John Winchester admitted when he'd made a mistake and even _apologized_ for it. Maybe it was because he'd become too close to losing his sons or maybe Bobby had managed to knock some sense into the oldest Winchester. Either way, maybe Christmas miracles existed after all – still having a little brother was all Dean could have ever wished for, at least.

John chuckled a little over Dean's obvious surprise and ruffled his oldest son's hair.

"Bobby made breakfast. What do you say we head down there, have a little bit to eat and let Sammy sleep a little bit longer?" John then asked.

"But what if Sam wakes up and I'm not here?" Dean asked and glanced at Sam whose floppy hair was all that was visible of the sleeping younger brother as he was buried underneath the covers. "I think I'll stay with him until he wakes up and then we can eat together."

"Okay, have it your way." John smiled and gave Dean's shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving the room again.

Dean leaned back on his bed, crossed his hands underneath his neck and let out a sigh while looking at the wooden pattern of the ceiling for a few minutes. He then turned onto his side so that he could watch Sam sleep. For most people it would seem weird to watch their siblings sleep but for Dean it was a matter of making sure that Sam was safe and sound - that Sam kept _breathing_ – and that would never feel strange to the older Winchester brother. Taking care of Sam had been his biggest priority for as long as he could remember and Dean would continue to do so no matter what happened.

"Guess you got the good bed after all." Dean whispered to Sam. "The things I do for you, huh Sammy?"

Sam's soft snores were the only answer Dean got and it made the older brother smile – never had he felt so blessed to still be able to listen to that sound.

When Sam finally did wake up in the late Christmas morning, the brothers were allowed to have breakfast in bed, and since Sam needed some time to get better - and the Impala needed a little bit of fixing up before they could hit the road again - the Winchesters spent the entire Christmas at Bobby's place. And even though John Winchester was itching for a hunt after only a few days, and Sam spent a week in bed with pneumonia, it was still one of the best Christmases Dean had ever had. As long as he could spend the holiday with his family, with a little brother who still lived, Dean Winchester was the happiest boy in the entire world.

  
  
**THE END**


End file.
